


An Unexpected Find

by janto321 (FaceofMer), JantoPhi21, phipiohsum475



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Mycroft, Alpha!Mycroft, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Ball, Doctor John Watson, First Meetings, First Time, M/M, Omega John, Omega John Watson, Omega Verse, Omega!John, Rimming, Scenting, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoPhi21/pseuds/JantoPhi21, https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/pseuds/phipiohsum475
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John, you will become disenchanted with me soon enough. But I would enjoy your company until that time comes. Would you care to dance?” Mycroft offered his arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Find

John Watson fiddled with his drink as he watched the crowd. This was his coming out, his introduction to society as an available omega. He felt ridiculous. But father was determined to find him a good match and at this point John would just be glad to be out of his house.

He noticed Mycroft Holmes among the alphas. He’d noticed Mycroft before, if he was honest with himself. But he doubted the studiously single alpha would have any interest in anyone like him.

Mycroft scanned the crowds with glass eyes. He slowly sipped his soda water; it wouldn’t do to be compromised, though it might be vastly more entertaining. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, there was so much to be done at the office; he sighed at the time wasted here. But alas, as a proper alpha, it was only fitting that he be engaged in courting an omega. 

If he turned off the many skittish creatures with his cool, firm demeanor, well, that certainly wasn’t his fault, now was it? Omegas frequently were taught to be coquettish, docile, and vapid; why anyone thought those were desirable traits was beyond him. He considered it just another facet of his work, playing the part of the interested, wanting alpha. He checked his watch; he could leave acceptably in just short of two hours. He painted on a plastic smile, finished his soda water, and with a deep breath, went to mingle among the crowd.

John took a breath as Mycroft moved towards him. He was about to gather his courage and say something when another omega stepped in front and gave the man a curtsey and a smile. John seethed, his fists balling by his side. He was small, even for an omega, and too many people thought they could just push him around. He opened his mouth to say something and noticed Mycroft looking at him over the other omega’s shoulder.

Mycroft barely noticed the dainty, perfectly lovely omega in front of him, dressed in soft pastels and false eyelashes fluttering while he held out his hand. Mycroft, ever the gentleman, pulled the omega’s hand for a kiss, but he was far too interested in the omega behind him. He kept his eyes on the smaller man, watching the rage flash through his eyes, the way his instinctive reaction was fight, not flight. With a dismissive ‘adieu,’ he waved away the flighty omega, and came directly to the angry omega on the side of the room.

Surprised, John gave the requisite curtsey, but he didn’t lower his eyes. “Good evening Master Holmes.” his heart beat a little faster and he mentally told himself to knock it off before he made a complete fool of himself.

Mycroft took stock of the omega in front of him, and mentally reviewed his dossier for the evening.  Sir John Watson , he remembered, the late-blooming omega’s first event. And was he a late bloomer, even accepted into the military as a beta, before his designation came out during the stress of trauma. If nothing else, Mycroft imagined he might procure some valuable field information. He bowed back, then offered, “Will you be so kind, Sir Watson, to accompany me to the balcony?”

“John is fine, sir, and I’d be honored.” He took Mycroft’s arm and walked with him. He felt light, and excited. And Mycroft was a very good smelling Alpha. He was still getting used to all that being an omega meant, but he certainly knew that this man was having an effect on him. There were many rumors about Mycroft Holmes, and John was certain that some of them were probably even true. He was dangerous, for certain, and that did nothing to quell his interest.

Mycroft gently guided the omega out of the ballroom and down the short marble staircase to the balcony. He took a deep breath of fresh air, grateful for the soft spring breeze that washed him of the stifling cloud of the ballroom. He’d worn a scent filter, but Mycroft still felt suffocated in that haze of pheromones.

Out here, with the recent sundown casting lavender light over the gardens, Mycroft could smell nothing more than the soft scent of hyacinths. He took in a few more deep, comforting breaths, and turned to his companion.

Affecting a sincere, albeit stiff, smile, he opened the conversation, “So, John, I’d enjoy hearing more of your military experience, should you feel so inclined.”

John was surprised. That was the last thing he expected an alpha to care about. "Not much to tell, sir.  I joined up to pay for school." He looked out at the grounds. "That won't happen now, of course. Got shot my second tour and woke up to find I'd presented omega under the trauma."

Mycroft nodded along, and debated. It wouldn’t do to upset an omega at such an event. If John were more delicate than he appeared, the backlash against Mycroft would be enough to question his ever-present single alpha status. He suspected, though, with the right approach, he might able to force John from the over-taught omega deference and get a real conversation with the former solider. 

“That must have been a lovely surprise,” he replied, voice dripping with saccharine, “An excuse to leave that wretched war and have all your worries removed. Once you find the right alpha, of course.” Mycroft placated him, internally bracing himself for either a verbal or physical assault.

Anger flashed in John's eyes and he took a step back, shaking himself free of Mycroft. "I was going to be doctor," he hissed. "How would you feel if you woke to find the life you'd planned for yourself was impossible?" He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Maybe he should have known this alpha would be like all the others. "I am here at my father's behest, and now that I have so clearly wasted your time I will go." He took a step towards the stairs. 

“A surgeon, am I right? A trauma surgeon. Your battlefield experience, which you so deftly gloss over, had made you more than qualified, but no school will accept you now. You’re here at your  father’s  behest, not your own, you have no interest in an alpha. What do you hope to find, Sir Watson?”

John turned to face him. "I don't know," he said honestly. "An alpha that won't expect me to manage a household and breed, I suppose, though this is all the wrong crowd for that. My life should have ended on that battlefield, or in the fever I had after. Instead I'm here. My father always did call me a stubborn bastard."

Mycroft grinned victoriously and held out his hand for a proper handshake, “Hello, Sir Watson, I am Mycroft Holmes, it’s a pleasure to  actually  meet you.”

John blinked, a slow smile spreading on his face. He shook, meeting Mycroft's eyes. "I see I'm not the only bastard around here."

“I prefer cunning, or perhaps conniving, myself. Perhaps we can be of assistance to each other. It is-” here Mycroft paused, then emphasized, “ professionally wise for me to be mated, or at the very least, actively courting an omega. Would you deign to spend time on my arm this evening, and I shall endeavour my very best to find you a suitable alpha?”

_I'd rather have you,_ thought John, then pushed the thought aside. "I'd be honored," he said instead.

Mycroft held his arm out for John, and the omega accepted gracefully. They moved together back into the ballroom, Mycroft taking one last large breath of the cool night air. As they mingled through the crowd, Mycroft murmured softly in John’s ear, looking all the while a courting alpha.

“The gentleman in the silver waistcoat and hideous broach is Sir Englebert. Avoid him at all costs. He’s got a bit of rough on the side, so all he needs is a trophy omega for breeding. The lady in the marigold ballgown, she might be suitable to you. She’s a widow with three pups. The family has a nanny, and it wouldn’t be expected of you to breed with her. That entire crowd-” Mycroft motioned to a handful of alphas, each sporting a sapphire tulip on their lapel, “belongs to a society, which, when their books are thoroughly examined, financially supports stripping omegas of their rights.”

John listened carefully, grateful for the information. When they'd finally stopped at the side of the room he looked up at Mycroft. "And what about yourself, sir, what do you need in an omega?"

Mycroft laughed, “Tell me, John, you’ve met me. You declared me a bastard within five minutes. My flaws only multiply. I work odd hours, take no holidays, stalk my reckless baby brother to save him from himself, and have been assured that I am, to quote multiple sources, ‘an insufferable prat’ and  those  are my less offensive failings. No, I would be worthless as an alpha to an omega. Best to stick to my work.”

John watched Mycroft's face. "Then why not an unconventional Omega? I've been raised as a beta. I'm a soldier. People won't expect me to know how to fight. I'm a crack shot too. I sure you've got your own security, but why not someone expected to be by your side?"

Mycroft considered John for a moment, then shifted his gaze out over the estate. He knew rumors existed; he wasn’t sure what John thought he knew. The night air slunk in, bringing with it the same scent of hyacinth from before, and another fragrance that paradoxically reminded Mycroft of sunshine. The cool breeze raised the hairs on his neck, and he spoke warily, “Just what is it you think I do, John?”

"A minor government official is what I've heard.  What I've seen is a very cautious man who probably has enemies out his ears, can't trust anybody, but needs society to see him a certain way." He kept his voice very low so only Mycroft could hear. 

Mycroft flashed an empty grin, his eyes calculating, “Why, Sir Watson, you are a clever one. A perfect vocation for a man in your position. Had I known that was what you sought, I could have suggested a few other prominent alphas in need of protection who could use the cover of an unassuming omega.” Mycroft’s tone grew sharper as he continued, “No use in dallying about; how much do you expect to be paid for your services? A tidy sum, I imagine. I’d accept no less than ten thousand pounds a month, were I you. Shall I compile a list of suitable partners?” 

John shook his head, wondering what he'd said wrong. "I'm not interested in anyone else. Nor do I need yours or anyone else's money or pity." He flushed with embarrassment and anger. Cocked this up no doubt. 

“Apologies, Sir Watson, my tone betrayed me,” Mycroft chastised himself. He truthfully didn’t need an omega, but he had hoped that for one evening, he could just enjoy the pleasure of another’s company without the undercurrent of business. 

“I had simply hoped, well,” he shook his head, “Let’s just say I was rather foolish.” Foolish for believing he had worth beyond his politics, that companionship might be within reach. “I cannot fault you for taking this opportunity to ‘peddle your wares’, so to speak.”

Mycroft collected himself and continued earnestly, “Sir Watson, I was entirely truthful, if less than hospitable. Your skill set, combined with your gender, is a valuable asset, and several affluent alphas would pay you handsomely for your unique brand of protection. I am a man of my word. You have provided me company this evening, and as we agreed, I will assist you in finding an alpha who can appreciate your talents.” He was grateful, if just a bit disappointed, with John on his arm this evening, it would be at least four months before he would be expected to show his face at another social event. 

John shook his head again. "I said I didn't want a different alpha. I asked about you because I'm interested in you. Not for your position or...or..." John blushed deeper and turned away. 

Mycroft’s eyes widened as he took in the implications of what John was trying to say. He supposed, that based on their limited contact, John might fancy himself intrigued with Mycroft. Too often though, in earlier years, had Mycroft been on the receiving end of brief infatuations. They ended swiftly when the reality of Mycroft’s personality overcame the romance of mysterious omniscience. “John, you will become disenchanted with me soon enough. But I would enjoy your company until that time comes. Would you care to dance?” Mycroft offered his arm.

"I would, thank you." John followed him to the dance floor. Despite the height difference, Mycroft made him comfortable and he found his steps easy to follow. Just when he was losing himself in the moment someone jostled him painfully. 

Mycroft turned to berate the clumsy interloper, and instead found himself staring at a familiar face. “Gregory? What’s wrong? Is it Sherlock?”

"When isn't it?" Sighed the detective. "I hate to pull you away if you're busy, but you're the only one that can talk sense into him."

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Mycroft glanced towards John, then back to his brother’s unofficial keeper, “And I expect you to apologize to my companion for so rudely running into him. Sir John Watson, may I introduce to you Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade.” Mycroft gestured politely between them as they curtseyed and bowed as their roles dictated, “DI Lestrade, Sir John Watson.”

“Apologies, Sir Watson,” the DI huffed, and hastened back to Mycroft, “He’s refusing to go to A&E.”

"Let me come. If he's hurt I can help," said John. 

Mycroft glanced at John, sizing up the situation. Sherlock was hurt or drugged, neither would be pleasant. He would be brash, rude, taunting, and most certainly anger the soldier the way he riled everyone else. In hindsight, Mycroft was quite stupid for not having done this before. Expose potential mates to an enraged Sherlock their first evening together, and let him weed them out. Given how much of his time was dedicated to caring for his brother, it made for a simple litmus test of an omega’s tolerance and understanding of the eccentricities of brilliance. “Come along then,” he accepted, and arm in arm they followed Lestrade.

-o-

John's first impression of Sherlock was of an angry cat. The dark haired alpha was curled around a wound and growling as they approached. John crouched next to him. "Hey."

Sherlock’s eyes grew sharp as he peeled away the layers of evidence surrounding John. Mycroft watched guardedly, hovering behind John as though he expected Sherlock to attack at any moment.

“Why the hell did you bring me an omega?” he scowled at Mycroft, with tense undercurrents of pain, “You’re more useless than Lestrade here. What’s he going to do, bat his eyelashes at me?”

Deftly, John grabbed his arm and yanked him flat on his back, putting a knee on his chest to keep him in place as he examined the wound. “Not that bad, stitches wouldn’t hurt though.”

Sherlock yelped at his sudden vulnerability, and Mycroft chuckled, “Did I forget to mention Sir Watson lived as a beta soldier for the last several years? Had you been ‘just fine’ as you seem to be fond of telling Lestrade, you would have  observed .” The last word was scathing, and Sherlock stopped his writhing to glare at him.

Then Sherlock smirked, “You seem quite proud of him, brother dear-” and he yelped as John prodded him uncomfortably, then continued “Have you found yourself some fine breeding stock?”

John slapped him before he really knew what he was doing. Sherlock stared at him, clearly startled and John heard the intake of breath behind him. Hopefully he hadn’t just given himself a one way ticket to out on his arse. Taking advantage of the moment of stillness, John quickly bandaged the wound with expert practice, using the med kit Lestrade had brought in.

The look of shock of Sherlock’s face caused Mycroft to double over and gasp with laughter. He wheezed softly, holding onto his thighs as his diaphragm rippled convulsively. He finally stood straight, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. “Well played, John, well played.” Looking to Sherlock, he started chuckling again, but managed to instruct his brother, “You need to apologize.”

Sherlock’s face warped again, and Mycroft turned away, bursting into laughter once more.

John looked Sherlock over, faint smile playing on his own lips. “You’ll live,” he said, getting to his feet quickly before Sherlock could grab him or try to knock him over. “Might want to get him home, Inspector.” He certainly wasn’t expecting an apology any time soon, but at least this had probably increased his chances with Mycroft.

As Sherlock sulked off with Lestrade, Mycroft heard his phone chime. “Alas, John, I have an appointment to keep. I am rather surprised to find myself reluctant to leave, but needs must.” Mycroft look John in the eye, treating John as the beta he thought he was once was, “If you are amenable, I’d rather like for you join me for dinner Thursday evening.”

“Be honored,” John gave him courtsey. Mycroft had the car take him home and John managed to get up to bed before his father could interrogate him about his evening.

-o-

Thursday evening came quickly but not soon enough. Father seemed displeased that it was Mycroft Holmes, but he didn’t stop him as he dressed for his date. John bit back the nerves as he waited for Mycroft’s car. Father had found an excuse to be absent when he left; probably out drinking whatever was left of the family fortune.

As John got into the car he was aware, even more so now than at the ball, of how little he came from. There might a title, but his suit was getting threadbare and his trousers had been patched. His hands were still rough from work. The car was all sleek leather and oozed the kind of luxury that was taken for granted. He dearly hoped Mycroft didn’t think he was interested in only his bank account.

As John entered the vehicle, Mycroft noticed the firm line of his jaw and stormy ocean in his eyes. He took a deep breath to control his interest, and, without his scent filters, inhaled an intoxicating scent of hyacinth, sunshine, and the rare night-blooming cereus. The fragrance was unmistakable; he’d fallen in love with the single bloom cactus as he watch it grow during his student exchange trip to a Hawaiian school, impossibly nestled within lava rock formations. It was a marvel of nature. 

His eyebrows ascended, and his voice was deep with arousal, “It was you!”

John was surprised by the scent of arousal and the tone of Mycroft’s voice. He kept his hands in his lap and slightly shifted towards the door. “It was me, what?” He licked his lips as he regarded the alpha. The close confines were doing nothing to dim his own attraction.

“The night of the ball. I wore a scent filter; the events are always far too cloying. However, the smell of hyacinth and sunshine kept filtering through. I assumed it was the garden, but it was you!” Mycroft pulled back as he saw John lean into the door, and suddenly flushed, embarrassed to be gushing over his companion’s scent. It was far too intimate a topic for this stage in their courtship, “I’m sorry, I’m being rude.” 

John smiled. “No, no, it’s fine.You smell pretty amazing too,” he admitted. “Like I’d imagine a Dicken’s era London sweet shop might smell, without the garbage and smog.”

“As long as you think highly of the Dicken’s era, then I shall thank you.” Mycroft quipped. He found himself with a longing to scent the omega, but controlled himself. “How do you feel about Greek? I know of a lovely little Greek restaurant with perfectly authentic food.”

“Haven’t had it much, but it’s fine by me.” John took a breath and scooted towards the alpha, letting his hand rest next to Mycroft’s, not quite touching. “Still getting used to the whole omega thing,” he admitted. “Always been small for my age, but it was different when I was a beta.”

Mycroft took the gesture for what it was and slid his hand into John’s, but spoke through the motion to alleviate any awkwardness, “I have been fortunate. My gender was expected from age two. I’ve always been quite commanding, lining up my mammalian models and instructing them in the various forms of government. Seven was a fun age.” Mycroft reminisced. “I admit, I’m less familiar with the opportunities available to omega in the public sphere. What are your current aspirations?” The warmth of John’s hand tingled up his arm and radiated out his spine. His whole body was warm, and he felt the sudden need for a drink.

“I don’t honestly know,” said John. “All I ever really wanted was to become a doctor and now I can’t. I was a good soldier, but obviously that’s out too.” He ran a thumb along the back of Mycroft’s hand, watching the older man shiver. There’d been no once since he’d presented, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want, with the right person.

Mycroft’s breathing hitched at John’s gesture, but he held steady despite his inner urges. He refused to rut or lust or “take” anything not freely given, and most certainly not in the back seat of a vehicle. He breathed a sigh of relief when the Lincoln came to a stop. He brought John’s hand up and pressed a soft kiss on its back. “Shall we?” he asked.

“Certainly.” John found he wanted more of that touch, appropriate or not. No alpha had intrigued him this way. Still, he behaved himself as they went inside.

-o-

Dinner was delicious and he told Mycroft so as they made more small talk over the meal. Finally though the last bits were eaten and Mycroft was showing him back to the car. “This was wonderful,” said John, honestly.

“I had a fantastic time, John,” Mycroft answered, and instinctively brought him into a hug. Unintentionally, he inhaled a deep breath of John’s scent at his neck, and couldn’t bite back the moan that came with it. Pleasure bloomed through his body, and he blanched. He stepped back quickly, but his arousal was surely evident. “I’m sorry. Please, why don’t you let Jeffrey drive you home, and he can come back to fetch me later.”

“I… can stay with you, if you want,” said John, meeting his eyes. His own breath was short and he knew they were both aroused. Propriety be damned, he wanted this man, this alpha.

Mycroft felt his resolve weaken, and he confessed, “If you enter that vehicle with me, I’m afraid I might insist Jeffrey take you to my flat. I might insist on scenting you. I… you make me-” Mycroft huffed, and he stepped forward, mildly crowding John into the door of the black car, “Please John. If you don’t go… I’m afraid I might not be able to control myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to control yourself?” growled John in his ear.

Mycroft snapped, and pressed John hard into the car. He licked a stripe up the omega’s neck and groaned, intoxicated with John’s taste. He felt his blood rushing; warmth filling him, and he softly thrust against John once, while threading his fingers in the blond hairs. “My dear John,” he moaned, “We’d best enter the vehicle.”

John swallowed hard. “Yes, that would be best.”

Somehow they got into the car without making utter fools of themselves. As soon as the door was closed though, John was in Mycroft’s lap, scenting him and dragging his teeth lightly across his neck. He was delicious.

Mycroft’s hands frantically pawed at John’s dress shirt of his their own account; his mind was far too occupied with the sensations of the omega in his lap, the searing heat of John’s body overwhelming his nerves, and he gave a throaty whimper. His fingers finally found skin, and he ran his palms up the strong expanse of John’s muscular back. Arousal rumbled up his chest, the vibrations escaping him as his fingers danced down John’s obvious strength. Omegas were rarely like this; powerful, strong, aggressive. Mycroft’s eyes rolled back as the scent encompassed him; too much longer, and he’d claw John’s clothes off.

John shivered under his touch. “Did you want to wait until we’re back at yours?” He leaned back a bit to give him space, but didn’t vacate his lap. He also didn’t want Mycroft to do something he’d regret later.

Mycroft took the moment to breathe deeply. The haze of hormones in the air made it difficult, but just the separation from John gave him room enough to realize that John was right. He had soft silken sheets, gorgeous, fluffy pillows, and lubricant. God yes,  lubricant . “You’re absolutely right, John,” he admitted, and smacked at the door console until the window began to descend. “But my sweet, gorgeous, unrivaled omega,” and Mycroft leaned in once more to nibble at John’s neck, then pulled away, irritated at himself, “we have got to air out the car.”

John chuckled and leaned against his chest, breathing in his scent. “Fair enough. And I’m on birth control, by the way, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Mycroft rolled his head back onto the rest, as he panted; that idea stuck in his head. The way John might moan as Mycroft filled him up, John, faced down, arse up, begging for Mycroft to fuck him. “Oh, for the love of-” Mycroft shifted oddly, “John, please excuse me. I’m afraid if you don’t vacate my lap  right now , I will knot you where you sit.”

John hesitantly slid off his lap, and Mycroft took in a few calming breaths. The air flowing in from outside helped clear his head, and he huffed, “John, I suspect that it may be bad form to admit this, but I find myself drawn to you like no other before you. If you are looking for something casual, I implore you, tell me now. ”

John shook his head and took Mycroft's hand. "Not this time. I've been with others as a beta, but as an omega I want only you. They didn't mean much; you do."

-o-

Mycroft forgot his decorum when they reached the flat, and nearly fell out of the car before his driver could open his own door, let alone those of his clients. John followed suit, and Mycroft grasped his hand and half dragged him through the front door. The moment the door was shut, Mycroft leaned down and inhaled John’s heady scent. 

John moaned, feeling heat and damp course through him. Here he was surrounded by Mycroft's scent and it made him want to surrender completely. 

"Bedroom?" He panted. 

“Absolutely,” Mycroft agreed, and bent down to caress John’s lips with his own. With one hand in John’s hair, and the other snaking its way around John’s waist, Mycroft led the way; his steps stilted as he walked backwards. Distracted by zealous kisses, they bumped into a table and the corner of the door before entering the master bedroom, a large, resplendent room with king size four post bed against the far wall. Mycroft stepped back until his calves hit the bed, then fell onto the downy duvet, pulling John down with him.

John growled and attacked Mycroft's buttons, getting his waistcoat and then his shirt open, leaning down to catch his nipple with his teeth, groaning at the feel of Mycroft's hands on him. 

Mycroft bucked up, crying out. He was torn between ripping John’s clothes off, and having to remove his hands from the supple flesh under his fingertips. He decided on a compromise, and slipped on hand down John’s trousers to cup his firm arse and use the other hand to start in on John’s buttons. 

Given their position, Mycroft could only get halfway down John’s chest before he could no longer reach and snarled in irritation; how dare the petulant fabric come between him and his omega? Channeling his animalistic strength, he pulled John up with one arm and used the other to flip them in one smooth motion. He hovered above John on all fours, then leaned on his heels and angrily ripped the dress shirt off, buttons and all. Mycroft paused, surprised, as a button bounced off his forehead.

He immediately regretted his actions, and flushed with an embarrassed half giggle, “Oh, John, I am terribly sorry. I allowed my instincts to get the better of me. You are just so…” Mycroft trailed off with a deep moan, unable to finish the sentence, but looked pleadingly at John for forgiveness. 

John could really care less at the moment. Mycroft could buy him a new shirt later. Panting, heat in his eyes, he pushed Mycroft's clothes off his shoulders before undoing and wiggling out of his trousers. "Don't hold back with me," he grunted, reaching out to squeeze Mycroft through the suit trousers, leaning up to lick at freckles on pale skin, for once not caring about the ugly scar on his own shoulder. 

Mycroft gasped at the touch, the warmth of John’s hand jolting through his nerves and sending his instincts roaring back to surface. He ran his fingers down John’s bare flesh, as he leaned to mouth at the juncture of John’s neck and shoulder where a bond mark might go. It was too early for that, but just the tease of it sent blood rushing to his cock, and, unable to resist, found himself biting into John’s shoulder instead.

John gave an undignified whimper, loving the way it felt, and let his legs fall open. He stretched for the fly on Mycroft's trousers and couldn't quite reach so merely stroked his alpha's stomach. 

Throbbing, and slightly uncomfortable with the whole of his length pressed up against the zip of his trousers, Mycroft nuzzled into John’s neck, then murmured hotly in his ear, “One moment, love,” and slid off the bed. He slipped off his trousers and his pants, and bent over to relieve John of his own. He stared hungrily at John, forgetting himself for a moment in the tanned, muscular form. He blinked a few times, and fetched a clear bottle from the dresser and set it on the nightstand, then worked his way back onto the bed, kissing up John’s legs, and nibbling gently on thighs.

Moaning, John spread his legs wider, rocking his hips and grabbing the sheets to keep from stroking himself. He was full of the scent of Alpha and wanted nothing more than this. 

"Please..." He wanted tongue and hands and teeth and cock. 

Mycroft worked his way up to the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, and bit soft marks in the flesh. He dragged his fingers up to John’s arse, and as John opened himself further, Mycroft traced the sensitive outline of his rim. The omega’s slick reduced the friction slightly, but Mycroft was glad he’d grabbed the lubricant. 

John gasped. It was certainly different as an omega. He found himself more sensitive and a ragged moaned slipped out as Mycroft rubbed a slicked finger against him. He'd been with a couple men as a beta, but it was nothing like this. Mycroft pressed a finger inside and his body clutched at him. 

Mycroft groaned. John was so hot, so wet, so gloriously open compared to the few betas he’d been with in the past. The pheromones were exquisite, and Mycroft needed more. He dipped his head down, and tentatively tasted John’s wetness off the tip of his finger. John’s flavor exploded his senses, and without a second thought, he dragged his tongue over John’s pucker to capture more of it. 

John cried out and rocked against him. He dropped a hand to squeeze his cock, hard as he'd ever been. "God, Mycroft..."

Mycroft snarled and batted John’s hand away. John was his. His arse was his. His cock was his. He replaced John’s hand with his own, and attempted to stroke the omega as he clamored to devour more of John’s delectable savor. John writhed underneath him and it only spurred him on. He couldn’t take much more, and he lifted his head to seek out John, “How would you prefer this? Because I must be inside you.  Now .” 

"Just fuck me," begged John. 

Mycroft smiled wickedly, and his alpha coursed through him, and he flipped John onto his belly, then pulled his hips up. He reached for the lubricant, pressing his length down John’s cleft, and nibbling at his neck as he pulled back. He slicked his fingers, and slid a finger in, then three. How the omega opened and readied for him was intoxicating. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could compare to John after this. 

He added a few more drops of lubricant to his thick cock, and teased the outside of John’s hole for a few moments before pushing in slowly. He gasped as he watched John’s body eagerly accept him. Not just accept, but he felt as though John was pulling him in.

All John could do was moan and writhe. Every nerve and instinct was on where their two bodies joined. He muttered and perhaps he was begging but he wasn’t even sure any more. All he wanted was to be filled, to be knotted, to be claimed. And he knew that he’d never want another.

It was like a drug, the way John infiltrated Mycroft’s every being. His mind was filled with nothing but John. John’s smell, John’s touch, John’s heat, John’s pants and moans. Entire symphonies could be made from the pleasures that dropped from John’s sweet lips. The push and drag as he thrust into John, the way John quivered around him, all of Mycroft’s consciousness was devoted wholly to John.

He bent down, draping himself over John, and lost himself in the sensation of their bodies pressed flush against each other. He ran his hand down John’s arm, then gripped his hand, interlocking them together. 

John moaned again and squeezed his hand. He could feel Mycroft’s knot pressing against him and there was a moment of panic of  too much and then he was shoving it inside and John was coming, keening loudly, so  full .

Mycroft nearly howled as his knot pressed up against John, then slipped inside his taut, lovely arse with a clenching force. He roared as John came, muscles clenching tightly around Mycroft’s pulsating knot, and he came, wave and wave into John’s welcoming body. “Fuck, John, I’ve never… oh my, the Oh-!” Mycroft craved to bite John, mark him, bond John to him, but he controlled himself just enough to bite his shoulder as he had before. He drew blood, and the tang of it startled his body into releasing a second glorious wave of pleasure, further filling the omega as his body attempted to overwhelm the omega’s womb. Nevermind that that John wasn’t in heat,  and  on birth control, Mycroft’s body plummeted again into the throes of a third orgasm in it’s futile but welcomed attempts. Mycroft whined, the oversensitivity marking his body limp. He pulled John onto his side with him, and wrapped an arm around him. 

He’d never knotted before; betas couldn’t handle it. It was draining, powerful, and sublime. He had no idea how long it might last. But he held John tightly, tensing with the occasional, weakening waves of delight.

John felt like he was going in and out of consciousness. He floated in delirium, Mycroft’s strong arm wrapped around him.  he had no idea it could feel like this, full of Mycroft’s knot and seed. His alpha’s hand instinctively rested on his belly, even though there was little to no chance of pregnancy. His shoulder stung where he’d been bitten but he found himself craving a bonding mark instead. If he’d been at all uncertain about joining himself to Mycroft Holmes those fears had been obliterated.

Mycroft leaned down to lap at the wound, and he whispered apologies on John’s skin for his roughness. Once he felt as though he’d probably cared for the mark, he confessed, “Stay with me, John. Tonight. And for as many nights after that you may want me.”

“I will, Mycroft.” He snuggled back against him. “And…if you do decide you want children…”

“I wouldn’t dream of pressuring you. You seemed quite certain at the ball. Know that I am not that kind of alpha. I find children lovely, but not a necessity for a full and happy life. However, you, my love, are necessary. To me. In every way imaginable.”

John smiled warmly, sleepy. “I never imagined it could be like this, but I’m glad I kept after you, didn’t let you dismiss me.”

“I am rather pleased that you were interested in more than just business. I had quite enjoyed my conversation with you; when I thought you only needed employment, I must admit, my heart sank.” Mycroft nuzzled into the crook of John’s neck, and yawned. His knot was still full inside John, and softly pulsating every few minutes, but Mycroft closed his eyes, sleep threatening to overcome him. 

John closed his eyes and snuggled in close, glad for what they'd found in one another. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find us both on Ao3 at merindab.tumblr.com and phipiohshum475


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